Slaughterer
by HumanBarricade
Summary: Peter Parker was not one to play it safe. He preferred the exciting side of life. Naturally, this would get him into trouble. There would be a change in him that could never be reversed. No one is sure what caused it. The only clear fact is that that boy is insane. Rated M purely for possible graphic deaths in the future and maybe some language.
1. Sam Alexander

**Victim 1: Sam Alexander**

"Hey, Pete, what's up?" Sam greeted Peter at his locker.

Tightly gripping his locker, Peter peered up at Sam. He scowled at his shorter friend. Sam raised an eyebrow, wondering why the ever-optimistic Peter Parker was in a sour mood.

"Jeez, did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?" Sam asked, taking a step back.

"I'm fine, just tired," Peter stated bluntly.

He went back to organizing his locker, a task Sam had so rudely interrupted. Taking the hint, Sam continued down the hallway to who-knows-where. Peter didn't particularly care. Right now he needed Sam to stay away. Everyone just needed to stay away. He had an insatiable desire for solitude at the moment. This made going to school difficult.

After slamming his locker shut, he left the school building and then the campus all together. He wandered off into the city. Thousands of meaningless faces passed him. He quickly strode through the crowd as if he had somewhere to be. The presence of other people still bothered him, even if they were strangers.

Soon he reached a dead part of the city near the outskirts. Crumbling apartment complexes and abandoned warehouses galore surrounded him. A few shady-looking groups clung to the allies and shadows. However, a couple children also played in the barren street.

Peter glanced around before entering what used to be a smelting plant. From the interior, the building appeared to be miles long. Few windows let in small streams of light. Only a few large pieces of obsolete machinery remained.

As he walked on, he noticed large buckets. One hung down from near the ceiling. Slipping on his web shooters and pulling out a flashlight, he swung up to get a better look. The bucket had to have been twenty feet deep or more and maybe just as wide in diameter. The whole thing consisted of a thick and heavy metal.

Suddenly, he had an idea. Sam would find it rather hilarious.

* * *

Yanking on Sam's arm, Peter exclaimed, "Sam! I really need to show you something ASAP."

Sam rolled his eyes. Peter actually managed to half-drag him when he didn't budge at first.

Sam started walking with Peter and asked, "Whoa, calm down, Parker. What is it? A new video game!? That would be awesome."

His eyes sparkled.

"Yeah, sure. Limited edition RPG or something. I hid it somewhere for you to find," Peter brushed off.

"Wha-Why?" Sam asked, now feeling semi-crushed.

He hated working for things. That took, well, work. Video games were supposed to be something relaxing. The process of attaining them could at least be less stressful as well.

"Because…You're really great at finding things," Peter desperately tried to reason.

"Ugh, whatever. This better be worth it or I'm going to disorganize your comic books again."

"You better leave my comic books out of this!" Peter shot, remembering the horrific incident.

* * *

The two young men entered the now very dark, abandoned plant Peter had visited previously. Sam used a flashlight Peter gave him to see. He stared in confusion at the machinery around him. Peter gestured for Sam to search.

"Go on, your game is out there," he assured, smiling in the dark.

Sam shivered and glanced back at Peter. His gut told him this was a bust, but his hopes for a new videogame took over.

He sighed, "Okay, but this building gives me the creeps. Couldn't you have just hidden it in the helicarrier?"

"It'd be even harder to find with all of the hidden compartments they probably have."

"Err, good point," Sam muttered before wandering off to search.

Peter now smirked. Perfect. While Sam was distracted, Peter thwipped a web and climbed up to the bucket he had rigged. He had used a series of chains and webs to hold it upside-down with the open side facing down towards the floor. All he had to do was get Sam to stand under it.

"Hey, Sam! You're sure taking a long time finding that," Peter mocked. "I hid it in a really obvious spot."

"Whatever. This place is huge. Give me a hint," Sam groaned loudly from far away.

"For starters, it's near me."

He heard Sam heave an annoyed sigh. Sam sprinted over to where he heard Peter's voice and began walking all around. A couple times he falsely excited himself when he found old, water-damaged magazines.

Sam blabbed, "What is this? Wow, it's a 1950s LIFE magazine with Marilyn Monroe. This is some ancient stuff."

"Sam, just look under me. You're taking way too long," Peter mumbled with a face palm.

Shrugging, Sam threw the magazine and obliviously walked under the bucket. He looked around, trying to find any rectangular shapes indicating a disc holder.

Holding back a snicker, Peter simultaneously cut the web holding the bucket in place and released the chains holding it up. A deep urrm followed by a loud, metal DUMMM could be heard as the massive bucket slipped through the chains and landed over Nova.

Everything seemed to hold its breath. Peter simply stared down at his handiwork. He then heard mumbling from inside of the bucket. Deviously smiling, he slid down a web to reach the ground.

"What the hell?!" Sam yelled from inside the bucket, his voice echoing and only sounding as loud as normal talking to Peter.

"Relax, it's a prank," Peter chuckled, knocking on the bucket.

"I can hardly hear you. My leg is broken! It hurts like, oh I don't know, a giant bucket bashed it," Sam shot, now pounding on the bucket.

He suddenly stopped, realizing that the vibrations only rang in his ears. Peter's laughing pissed him off like nothing ever had.

"Let me OUT!" Sam shouted.

"Ah, what? I can't hear you. You're so quiet."

"This isn't funny, Parker. You're taking this too far."

Peter didn't respond, but rather started examining where the lip of the bucket met the ground. It seemed to be perfectly sealed off and deep enough into the ground.

"Sorry, Sam, this bucket is too heavy for me to lift. Maybe Luke could help."

"Crap, I forgot to bring my communicator!"

"Oh, me too."

"Well, get help. Hurry!" Sam insisted.

"Okay, okay. I'll be back."

Sam heard Peter dash off into the distance. Every move Sam made in the bucket echoed. His panting and rubbing his injured leg were all he could hear.

He wondered why Peter had done this. It wasn't like him. Their pranks could be kind of mean sometimes, but they never hurt each other or put each other in any real danger. His gut tensed up again with a bad feeling.

Stupidly he had left his backpack at school along with his cell phone. Curse Peter for rushing him over here. He had no idea how much time had passed. His leg throbbed.

Sitting down, he felt around where the bucket met the ground. He dropped his flashlight when the bucket fell and he couldn't seem to find it anywhere. The bucket seemed to be far in the hard ground. He didn't want to dig through a cement and dirt mixture.

Maybe someone heard the bucket fall. Would they call the police? Or would they assume the old building was just naturally falling apart? For all he knew, falling buckets were normal in this neighborhood. Besides, one loud thud from an abandoned factory with huge buckets may not concern anyone. No one would know he was in here. Only Peter knew.

Sam started breathing heavily. Peter had trapped him in here. What if he took his sweet time? What if Peter wanted to scare him? Where would Sam pee if he had to? He feared not knowing what time it was. Not even day or night could be distinguished with how thick the bucket was.

He pushed his back against the edge. Throbbing in his leg only got worse by the minute. The air inside started to feel warm and muggy. A bucket with a lack of holes suddenly terrified him. How would air get in? Would he run out?

Standing up with a lot of pain in his leg, Sam began banging on the bucket. He hoped and prayed that someone would find him. Little did he know that his banging was hardly audile to passersby on the street. It sounded as soft as a kitten's purr.

"I'm going to die," Sam suddenly murmured.

He felt himself choking on tears. All his hope in Peter returning fled. No one else knew, therefore they couldn't save him. He ceased his banging. Slowly, he fell to the ground. Pain shot up through his leg.

"Son of a-!" he began, his swear interrupted by a sob.

His leg had to have been seriously broken to hurt this badly. Panic ensued as he desperately wanted to leave his metal prison.

"Somebody help me!" he cried. "Get me out of here! Anyone! I'm trapped!"

Sam vainly smacked the bucket a couple more times. Each breath noticeably became harder to take. Dust stuck to his tear-stained face.

"I don't want to die," he sobbed, curling up into a ball excluding his broken leg.

He let his regrets and dreams consume him during what may be his final hours. He wished that he'd done so much more with his life now. So many video games would be left unplayed. He hadn't dated MJ like he wanted to. He'd never see the Guardians of the Galaxy again. His teammates would miss him…he hoped that they would.

All he could do now was cry about it. Banging hadn't helped. Neither had shouting. Waiting was his safest bet.

Seconds, minutes, or perhaps hours passed before he reached his final breaths. They were weak wheezes grasping for any oxygen his lungs could get. His chest stung, as it wasn't enough to sustain him. Slowly, his eyes shut. His body relaxed itself as he prepared for death. He only hoped that it wouldn't hurt. He drifted off, his chest rising one final time before falling flat.

Sam Alexander was dead.


	2. Ava Ayala

**Victim 2: Ava Ayala**

Slivers of light began to peer through the windows of the old smelting plant. Peter gazed at the fallen bucket before him. After knocking on it several times and not getting a response, a grin crossed his lips. He knew what this meant. Sam would never pester him ever again.

Peter trudged on to school. He blindly went through the motions of each class and lunch. While Ava, Luke, and Danny discussed Sam's absence, Harry and Mary Jane found Peter's silence concerning.

"Peter, are you okay?" MJ asked, touching Peter's shoulder.

"Yeah. I had some intense homework last night," he replied, prodding his mashed potatoes.

Harry agreed, "I hear you. That physics lab write-up was a pain."

Sighing, Peter stared at his food. He didn't want to be here. Interacting with his friends felt tedious. What he had done last night, however, excited him. It had been wrong, but satisfying.

"Peter! I've asked you almost five times now if you know where Sam is," Ava shouted, looking Peter in the eyes.

Letting his spoon rest on his tray, he glanced up and mumbled a, "No."

His answer didn't please Ava, as she asked him another question, "Do you know where he might be?"

"I don't know," Peter groaned, glaring at her. "Maybe he's skipping. You've all know him longer so you should know his usual spots by now."

Danny, Luke, and Ava all held shocked looks. They now felt slightly guilty for not knowing Sam's whereabouts. Luke raised an eyebrow at Peter's rude response. Ava grit her teeth, stood up, and stalked off. Danny simply took in his friend's varying reactions.

"Dude, not cool," Luke stated, before taking a bite of pasta.

"I'm sure Sam will return to us soon. He may have been feeling ill today or have had a previous engagement," Danny added, hoping Peter would stop interpreting their comments and questions as attacks.

"Whatever," Peter huffed, suddenly leaving as well.

He ignored Harry and MJ's confused looks. Everyone's stares and questions about Sam annoyed him. There had to be a solitary place where he could just think. A high school in the middle of New York City made that hard to find.

After a brief fast walk down hallways and up some stairs, he came to the roof. Other than chilly air and a partially cloudy sky, the day seemed nice. Peter made his way to an edge and blankly stared out at the landscape before him. He didn't bother to take it in. All he cared for was excitement. Adrenaline. The thought made him smile.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Ava. She too leaned against a ledge overlooking the cityscape from the school. He was pretty sure she hadn't noticed him yet. She had been a bit irritable today. Either she deeply cared for Sam or she had underlying issues. He guessed that is was most likely the latter since no one could deeply care for Sam.

"Peter? What are you doing up here?" Ava asked defensively, pouting in his presence.

Semi-caught off-guard, he sauntered over to her. The annoyed look on her face remained as he finally stopped a few feet away.

"I needed a break, to cool down," he replied.

"Sam didn't even come back to the helicarrier last night. He won't answer his cell phone. His Nova helmet is still here. This isn't like him. Where would he go all of a sudden?"

Peter decided to relax himself a little. He needed to find the real thing that was bothering her. If he acted more understanding maybe he could get her to say what it was.

He assured her, "Ava, I don't know. He might have just left. He'll come back."

Biting her lip, Ava groaned and gazed back at the cityscape.

"What's really troubling you?" Peter asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"For starters, your attitude earlier."

"I'm sorry. It's hard to keep my life in order. I wonder how you do it."

She sighed, "It's not easy. My grades in Calculus are…slipping. I got a B on my last exam. I don't get B's."

"Ava, it's okay. You'll do better on the next exam," he tried to reason.

"You don't understand!" she shot. "I'm not Harry. I'm not okay with lower grades. I _need_ to get A's. I have to excel at everything I do to carry on what my father and his father did. If I don't keep my skills sharp, then I'll falter."

Peter kept himself from grinning. If one B on an exam did this to her, oh boy did he want to see what a lower grade would do. He wanted to see her crumble.

"This is one test. There are plenty of other tests to get A's on. You're going to do great next time, okay?"

He hoped the pep talk would make her feel better. Her high hopes would only make the fall that much more painful.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks for the encouragement," she said, smiling.

She briefly hugged him before leaving the roof to the interior of the school. Another plan popped into his head. It would take some time, but it would be worth it.

* * *

Peter grinned as he easily hacked into Ava's grades at school. He was lucky SHIELD practically took over the computer systems. Without his clearance he wouldn't have come this far.

"Exam 5. B-," he mumbled to himself. "Can't have an F too soon."

* * *

"I don't want to talk about it!" Ava shouted as she passed Luke and Danny in the hallway.

Peter watched from his locker. The grade ate her up inside. A couple quizzes and maybe one more exam and she'd snap. He'd make sure she did.

* * *

Luke, Danny, and Peter all sat at a table doing homework together. Peter had finished long ago, yet kept pretending to work on it while listening to his friends talk.

"Seriously, where did Sam go? There's no way he just flew off and never thought to tell us," Luke said, closing his math textbook.

Danny reasoned, "He may have left with the Guardians of the Galaxy. There may have been an urgent matter he didn't have time to tell us about."

"Something just seems off about it, though. He left his helmet behind. And Ava has been…well, I think it's bothering her, too. She's never failed a single test. This happened after he left."

"The two may not be related, but it's unlikely to be a coincidence as well."

"What do you think, Peter?" Luke asked.

"I'm not sure," he lied. "Everything is just weird."

He kept his eyes on his paper. A long trail of scribbles and doodles covered an otherwise blank piece of lined paper. He really felt that things were getting boring again. No one had found Sam yet. It was time to do something about Ava.

Packing up, Peter suddenly said, "I have to go. I promised Harry I'd help him with physics later."

In an instant he was gone to the tutoring area. There he found Ava slumped over her homework in the corner. A couple crumpled up tissues laid on the table near her elbows. He approached her.

"What am I doing wrong?" she asked, sniffling and looking up at him.

"I-, Ava you're not, I don't know," he said.

"I know this stuff. I've gone over the formulas, the derivatives, the limit laws, everything. But then when I take the quizzes and tests, I must just forget it. I feel like I'm doing it right, but I'm obviously not," she sobbed, gesturing to the math book.

"Maybe you need a break."

"I need to study this. I have to get my grades up."

"Too much studying is a thing. Please, come outside. Take a walk. Get your mind off of all this. It'll be good for you."

"Okay," she cried, wiping her face.

Ava packed up her math with Peter's help and blindly followed him to the roof of the school. He noticed her eyes watching her feet more than anything else. Smiling for only a second, he sat on the ledge. Ava set her backpack on the ground and sat next to him. The two let the gentle breeze wash over them as they gazed at the roof's features.

"Luke and Danny think this is because of Sam," Peter said, breaking the silence. "But I know it's not."

Ava quickly looked up at Peter.

He continued, "You got a B on that exam before Sam went missing. You took it a week before."

"What are you saying?" she asked.

"Your grades aren't slipping because you miss Sam."

"You think I don't miss him?"

"No. I mean your grades are slipping because of something else."

Biting her lip, Ava's gaze fell. There had to be something he could latch onto. Some reason she would hopefully spill.

"I've never fought alone before and won," she sighed. "A real fight. I've always had others to rely on. A team. And you, you've been solo for a year. You didn't need a team to take down six people and I…I needed you for one stupid guy. I had years of SHIELD training yet I lost."

"You're self-conscious."

"I know and I-I don't want to be, but I want to be better. And now I'm going backwards. I don't know how to get out of this."

"Why would you want to get out?"

Ava froze.

"What are you fighting for?" he clarified.

"My dad and his dad."

"Well if you can't even take one guy, what makes you think you can fight for them? What's the point if you can't do it?"

"They died. I have to do something."

"Is getting an F really going to help them?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you being so—?" she shot.

"I can help you never get an F ever again," he interrupted.

"How?"

Peter held out his hand. Wiping her eyes, Ava took it. He stood. Her sore brown eyes gazed up at him, completely trusting. They were momentarily ignorant. She suddenly stood up and hugged him.

"Close your eyes and trust me," he whispered.

Slowly, she pulled away, eyes shut tightly. He knew what he had to do. All he worried about was her hands. Grasping her wrists, he pushed her over the ledge. Her eyes shot open. Quickly, she grabbed one of his hands.

"What are you doing?" she squeaked, lips trembling.

He didn't try to hide his smirk any longer.

"Cats always land on their feet, don't they?"

Before she could answer, Peter pried her hand off and let her fall. In a split second she fell through the air, helplessly clawing at nothing. Then her body hit the pavement below. Her brain smeared on the sidewalk through her shattered skull. Limbs bent in unnatural ways. Patches of blood grew on and around her. Covering his mouth, he held in a nasty chuckle.

He had killed Ava Ayala.


End file.
